Limbo
by Arisprite
Summary: Dean and Castiel were trapped in Purgatory. Much was an illusion, and red eyes stalked the night. Cas was falling and Dean was desperately trying to hold himself and the angel together. No one could help them now but each other. Oneshots set in Purgatory. No slash. Rated T for angst, horror, hurt/comfort, whump, darkness, etc...
1. Chapter 1

Title: Limbo-Grey, The First Day

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Cas panics and Dean complains about the decor.

Disclaimer: Kripke and CW own Supernatural, and I own this computer and that's it.

A/N: This is the start of a series of random oneshot things about Purgatory. I have no idea if it's going anywhere, or where that might be, but I have a few written, so look for updates soon. It's very random, but hopefully at the very least, Cas and Dean stay in character and it is not terrible to read. Varying lengths. Angst, probably some gore, darkness, hurt/comfort, bromance, etc...Written before Season 8 came out.

* * *

_Slice!_**  
**

The vamp-turned-purgatory monster fell to the earth, sans head and most of its shoulder. Dean staggered to the side, breathing heavily. That thing had put up more of a fight than earth vamps did, for sure. His machete (only in his belt because he'd been beheading levis before being pulled down here, for which he was eternally grateful) dripped blood and goo and whatever onto the ground, and Dean knelt to wipe it on some greenish grey plants.**  
**

**"**Why is everything the same color here?" He asked Cas grumpily. The angel himself was behind him, wiping his own blade.

His complaint was true though. The sky was always a dark blackish blue, sometimes lighter and greyer, but never that bright. There was no timetable either, it seemed to be random, rather than a day to night deal. Which made sleeping in any sort of schedule useless. The plants were greyish-green, the trees were blackish-grey, the ground was greyish-brown.

"Seriously, it's lovely. I'll have to get the name of the decorator. Oh yeah, that was God."**  
**

Cas gave him a peeved look, and years ago, there would have been reprimand for the disrespect. But now, Dean never knew what was going to come from the guy. It could be that old self, with the confused and slightly flustered look, but quirky and badass when the situation called for it. Or it could be a downtrodden, and guilt ridden "emo boy" as Meg had called him. And to think the nickname had confused him at the time, when he'd mostly seen the "I watch the bees" Cas. Flighty, with topic ADD and an allergy to conflict. Yeah, that guy hadn't been around much down here. They couldn't afford it.**  
**

He'd had to talk to Cas when they got down here, and Cas fluttered off, freaked as Dean had ever seen him, only to fly back as quickly (long before Dean had had real time to panic at being left alone, not that he'd ever admit that) breathing hard, and rambling that there was no way out, no way out and they were going to die painfully..**  
**

He remembered grabbing Cas by the shoulders, and shaking him.**  
**

**"**Cas, damnit Cas, calm down! Stop!" Cas had stopped rambling, but stared at him with large eyes. Dean met those eyes with determination, recalling all those times, those staring contests of long ago, before all the mess. He had to get through to him, because Dean didn't have any idea how to survive here.**  
**

**"**Dean," Cas had said, "We're trapped..."**  
**

**"**It's okay, just breathe." Dean said, falling back into the litany of his many times having to calm Sam or someone else. "In and out, we'll get through this."**  
**

Cas shuddered, and glanced around. The red eyes, which Dean had been doing to damn fine best to ignore suddenly seemed feet closer. Fear jumped through him as well, but he didn't let it show. "Come on, Cas. I _need _you, here and ready to go. Don't fly off on me, alright?"**  
**

Cas locked eyes with him again, and nodded.**  
**

**"**Okay, good." Dean let go of Cas' shoulders, and stepped a small step away, but not far enough that he couldn't grab him again should the situation call for it. And it might soon. As much as he wished for it, those red eyes weren't going to ignore them forever. They needed to move. "Now, did you see anywhere safe, when you were flitting around?"**  
**

Cas shook his head quickly. "There is no where safe."**  
**

**"**Well, safer than here then? I don't want to find out what those red eyes are."**  
**

Cas glanced around, still pale and nervous, but coming back to himself. The old self, the one who'd averted the apocalypse with him. It was good to see him again.**  
**

**"**There was a cave to our left that might suffice." Cas said, quietly. He put out a hand, and within in a second they were standing somewhere new, somewhere safer than the open, hopefully. It was enough for the first night (if you could call it that) in Purgatory.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Limbo-Red, A Full Nights Sleep

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Cas sleeps and Dean freaks.

Disclaimer: Still don't own.

A/N: Enjoy!

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The red eyes, it turned out, were souls and monsters of every flavor imaginable. Ghosts, werewolves, vamps, ghouls, and things he'd never hunted on earth. He and Cas spent each day running, trying to survive, and when Dean began to lag with exhaustion, they tried to find a place of relative safety to catch a few winks.**  
**

After a while (like he'd said, time was hard here) Cas started to feel the exhaustion too, and soon he was having to sleep through the night (type thing) just to make it through the next day, just like Dean.**  
**

Dean had freaked when he'd first awoken to find Cas slumped over, sound asleep, and mercifully not torn apart from their time unguarded. He jerked up at Dean's shout, blinking and jerking his head around.**  
**

**"**What happened?"**  
**

Dean waved his hand around, sitting further upright.**  
**

**"**You tell me! What you need to sleep now, again?" Dean said harshly. "You gotta tell me these things, man!"**  
**

**"**I-I didn't mean to fall asleep." Cas said slowly, brow furrowed. "I was just resting."**  
**

**"**You're not supposed to get tired now, remember? Fully charged angel again, after Stull." Dean said, recalling how _bright _Castiel had looked in that cemetery, his face uplifted as he healed Dean of his injuries. It had been such a difference with Cas as he'd lost his powers the months before. And now, looking at Cas, he could see that exhaustion, that greyness creeping in.

And it terrified Dean. Castiel looked nervous too, touching his chest as if he could see the grace underneath.**  
**

**"**I think it's this place." Cas finally whispered, meeting his eyes. "It's too far from Heaven. It's like being cut off again..."**  
**

Dean swallowed. Cas falling the first time had been hard enough for him, and those surrounding him. He didn't want Cas to have to go through that again, and not when their very survival depended on having as many weapons as possible. If ever there was time and place a charged angel would come in handy...**  
**

But, if it couldn't be helped, then it couldn't be helped. Coming to his feet, he pulled Cas up with him.**  
**

**"**How are you feeling, right now?" Dean asked, letting him go to stand on his own two feet. He was almost afraid that he'd wobble, sway or fall right then, but that was just his fears. Castiel stood steady on his own.**  
**

**"**I'm sore and tired still, but fine." Cas said, looking at the ground. Dean nodded.**  
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**"**How much juice do you have left, do you think?"**  
**

Cas looked annoyed, maybe at his powers being referred to as 'juice' or Dean's flippant tone. Dean didn't really care that much.**  
**

**"**I'll be fine if I don't do anything too strenuous."**  
**

And of course, strenuous to an angel is different than strenuous to a man, even a cut-off-from-Heaven-and sort-of-falling angel.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Limbo- Take a Sad Song

Author: Arisprite

Summary: Cas first can't sleep, and then doesn't want to.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, and I mean no offense with my musings.

A/N: Nothing to say, so enjoy!

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They continued their daily routine of running/flying around, fighting if they had too, and adding taking turns through the sort of night to get some rest. Dean had the daily pleasure of watching Castiel toss and turn through nightmares of the worst sort. Cas hadn't mentioned dreams back before the apocalypse, last time he'd needed to sleep, but it was clear that now, his sleep would be plagued with them. Guess he could join the club.**  
**

The first time it had happened, a string of hours after finding Cas sitting Indian style with his head buried in his arms, they were holed up in a small thicket thing. It wasn't much for shelter from the elements, but it hid their scent from any red eyes (as Dean had taken to calling them when they were too far away for identification-he much preferred they all stay red eyes) and let them sleep feeling slightly covered.**  
**

Cas told him to sleep when they found it, that he'd take the first watch, and wake him in four hours, but Dean insisted Cas go first. He wasn't sure he trusted Castiel to wake him up, and not just topple over himself. And, really the guy's eyes were heavy with sleep, the bags under his eyes deepened to furrows you could plant corn in.**  
**

So, Cas lay down uncomfortably, his face set in a frown. He'd never liked sleeping, he'd admitted to Dean back the last time. Too much time unaccounted for, while you lay vulnerable. Dean sat himself where he had a view of the edge of the thicket, and of Cas, who twitched every now and then, still awake and trying to get comfortable. Dean thought he probably didn't really know how to fall asleep, it seemed to have just come on him in the past.**  
**

**"**Cas," Dean asked gruffly. "You gotta stay still for the whole falling asleep thing to work."**  
**

Cas sighed. "I know," He murmured, and rolled over, facing away from Dean. There was silence for a while, but Dean could see that the angel was still awake. Then came the faintest sounds of musical notes. Cas was humming something, barely loud enough to be heard, but something about it was familiar.**  
**

Then the notes reordered themselves into a tune, and Dean knew what Cas was humming.**  
**

_Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better..._**  
**

It was the song that Dean's mother had sung to him when he was little, so distant now that he could barely remember. The years of earth life and of Hell had taken the sound of her voice from him, save what he'd heard from her spirit in Kansas, her past self, and the times that various bad guys had used her image. Her singing voice was completely gone.**  
**

Dean expected to feel anger, that Cas was humming _that _song, the special one, that the constructed echo of her sweet notes would be replaced in his head with Cas' gravelly humming. But he didn't. Not any more than than he already did anyway. Hell, anger at Cas was kind of his norm lately, no matter how much else he had on his mind. That never really went away, and if he thought about it, it could really mess him up for a while, and Cas could always tell. The Winchester compartmentalization was a method he carried on, that was for sure. Yeah, he was still angry, but something about that song...

**"**My mother used to sing that song to me." Dean found himself saying, instead. Cas stopped humming when he started to speak, and Dean carried on, quietly, like he didn't want to admit to it. "For years, I couldn't listen to it...then one day, it came on the radio, and I let it play. Dunno why."**  
**

Cas turned his head around, and his eyes glittered in the dark.**  
**

**"**Your mother had a lovely voice." He whispered. Of course, Cas had been watching, even then. Angel. Funny how sometimes Dean forgot just how ancient Castiel was.**  
**

**"**I don't remember." Dean said. Cas was silent for a moment. **  
**

**"**Daphne loved the Beatles. She'd hum it to herself when she couldn't fall asleep. I thought I'd try it. I apologize if it was painful to you."**  
**

Dean suddenly thought of Daphne, Emmanuel's, well, Cas' wife. They'd never gone back to her, they'd totally forgotten. She'd probably been worried sick, heartbroken that her husband had disappeared. Dean felt a little ill.**  
**

**"**Your...wife," Dean started, not sure if he was asking a question or starting a statement. Cas didn't take the bait, turning to rest his head back on his curled arm. Quiet fell for a moment, and just as Dean thought Cas had fallen asleep after all, Cas started humming another song. This one Dean recognized off the bat. John Lennon's _Imagine_. Man, the guy sure did like his Beatles. It was kinda cool to see Castiel's taste in music. Maybe when they got out of here, he'd see if he could get Cas listening to some of his favorites.**  
**

Eventually the humming petered out, and heavy breaths followed. Dean allowed himself to stare off into the forest surrounding them. The woods were dark, they were most of the time, and creatures skittered around, making various nightly noises. There weren't just monsters here, Dean had figured a while ago, and some of the smaller creatures were easy hunting, though they weren't good meat, even if they wanted to risk a fire. It made the forest seem less outright evil, though most things still had red eyes that glowed maliciously. They were keeping their distance for now, and Dean was grateful, for both he and Cas now needed their rest.**  
**

After an hour or two (time was really hard here, but he trusted his internal clock for the most part...not that it mattered too much without appointments or clocks to live by) Dean noticed something change. At first he thought it was the forest around him, and he gripped his blade tighter, staring out into the night. But then he realised that the slight noises weren't coming from the surroundings, but from Cas.**  
**

Dean turned in time to see Cas toss his head sharply, and hiss a breath. His brow was furrowed, and in the faint light he could see a gleam of sweat on his brow. Dean had had enough of them to recognize the signs. A nightmare. Idly, Dean wondered if Cas had ever had one before. It didn't look too bad yet, and Dean really didn't want to disturb his rest if he could help it, so he hunkered down to watch, and hope Cas calmed on his own.**  
**

No such luck. Cas' movements became more and more agitated, and Dean got to his feet and approached carefully, but quickly. Years with Sam and his nightmares had made him wary of flying fists, so he reached out to grip Cas' shoulder with his head tilted back. Before he made contact, though, Cas gasped loudly, and sat upright, breathing like he'd just run a marathon. Actually, not like _he'd _just run a marathon, he could probably do it no problem. Breathing like a middle aged accountant who'd just run a marathon. Cas' hair dripped sweat into his eyes, and his shirt was soaked under his coat. Not good. How had Dean let it get this bad? He must have been dreaming a long time before Dean had noticed the movements. **  
**

Dean let him get his bearings before he tried to touch him, let Cas' eyes stop jumping wildly around, and settle on his surroundings, on Dean. Once they'd met and held contact, he gave Cas a little half smile. **  
**

**"**Hey," He said, carefully placing a hand on his hot shoulder. "Back with us?"**  
**

Cas closed his eyes, and ran a hand down his face. It came back wet with his perspiration, and he ran it over his pyjama pants to dry it. He sucked in a shuddering breath, and nodded.**  
**

**"**I don't enjoy those..." Castiel said in a dry tone. **  
**

**"**No kidding." Dean replied, leaning back. "You alright?"**  
**

Cas nodded again, and then shivered. A flash of anger rolled across his face, so fast that Dean wondered if he'd imagined it. Then, Cas' face went blank and childlike, like back at the hospital, and Dean felt a sinking feeling. **  
**

**"**Dean, did you know that ants have two stomachs, one to feed themselves, and one to feed other ants? Imagine, a biological process built in to care for others-"**  
**

**"**Cas, come on. None of that bug crap!" Dean snapped, forgetting to guard his tone. Cas' head jerked down, and his shoulders hunched, making him look like a trench coated child in PJs. Cas hadn't had a slip into that la la Cas in a while, and it made Dean both annoyed and upset. Which made him feel guilty, which made him feel more angry. **  
**

He breathed in and out, calmly. One. Two. Three. **  
**

**"**Cas, look." Dean said, and Cas glanced up at him. Damn it, if it didn't feel like he was always walking on eggshells with this bipolar-ness. "I need you to stay focused. Please."**  
**

Dean waited, and gradually Cas slowed his breathing, and a line relaxed across his shoulders. His face was still guarded, but Dean couldn't tell if it was because of his outburst, or the circumstances. Dean held his breath again. Four. Five. Six. **  
**

**"**You're gonna freeze if you stay in those wet clothes. We gotta build a fire, get you dried off." It was true. Purgatory was cold. Not like it's-gonna-snow cold, but more like the kind of cold that seemed to seep into your bones and never let go. A fire would be amazing about now. Dean almost couldn't remember warmth. And, Cas in soaked clothes and not sure how much or how long his angel mojo was gonna last...well, better safe than sorry. **  
**

Cas, of course, put up a fight. **  
**

"No Dean. We'll be building a beacon to those monsters out there." It was sort of true. They'd already fought things, terrible things, getting away by the skin of their teeth. They did NOT need to draw more things to them. But they also could not afford to let one member of their two man team freeze from hypothermia. **  
**

**"**Cas-"**  
**

**"**I'm not going to freeze, and we're not building a fire. I'll be fine, and you still need to sleep. So go!" Dean thought that if Cas had had the mojo for it, he'd be making two fingered moves to his head right then. Meek crazy Cas was gone now, and old stubborn Cas was making a stand. Dean really didn't want to give in, but Cas had that glint in his eyes, saying you'd have better luck against Chuck Norris in a wrestling match than to get Cas to give in. Dean sighed, and gave. **  
**

That night. **  
**

Cas continued to have nightmares every night, and his clothes became stained with sweat, along with the dirt and grim. Dean was sure that if he didn't smell so much, being next to Cas would bring tears to his eyes. As it was, he didn't notice. He refused to let Dean build a fire, and Dean didn't push it too much. Cas hadn't froze yet, and the temperature, though low was stable, it seemed. For now.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Purgatory's Healing

Author: Arisprite

Summary: It was lucky that neither Dean nor Cas had gotten seriously injured yet...wasn't it?

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or these lovely characters

A/N: Enjoy!

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They'd been travelling steadily in one direction. It was really impossible to tell if it was North, South, East or West, but the light, when it brightened, always came from one place on the horizon. That was the way they went. Each day they got a little closer to that unknown point. Dean didn't even know why they'd chosen that direction, or what they hoped to find. He still had that hope of getting out, of finding Sam, but that was lost in the daily life.

Fighting was wearing, more than hunting had ever been. They were attacked often enough to amass a collection of wounds, minor but painful and they never had enough time to heal before the next hit. Sometimes Cas or Dean would see something coming, and have enough time to get out of the way, hide somewhere. Sometimes it was an ambush, and then they'd have to fight for their lives. But always, they both came out with injuries that never seemed as bad later as they were at first.

It was strange.

Dean first noticed it when they were fighting a couple of werewolves (never a full moon here, so the bastards were always in wolf form, clawing away at anything they found) and he took a rake across the chest which he was sure he felt scrape his rib bones. He'd continued fighting, pushing down the pain, and the panic at not having sufficient medical supplies, and got the beast with his machete. Beheading worked as good as anything on werewolves, they'd found. No silver to be had anyway. After the head had rolled away, and Cas had dispatched the other one with his shining angel blade (that might be silver, he'd never asked) Dean grabbed at his chest, trying to slow the bleeding which was...already...slowed, and almost stopped.

"...The hell?" Dean muttered, and felt his body, his torn shirt. The cuts were still there, but not nearly as deep as he'd first thought.

"What is it?" Cas asked, coming closer, and cleaning his sword on his already filthy coat.

"I just..." Dean touched his skin again, still weeping blood like a regular, shallow cut, but not gushing, not flayed open to the bone, like it should have been. "Something's weird about...I thought I just got filleted by that thing, and all I've got are these cuts."

Castiel watched him paw again at his shirt, and peer underneath it. "Sounds like you got lucky." He said flatly. Dean flashed him a look.

"No, man. I felt its claws, they went deep. It hit bone! But it's like it barely touched me."

Cas' shoulders lowered, and he glanced at a slash through the fabric of his coat sleeve. That had happened a few days ago, a shallow graze...or so he'd thought. "What's going on, Cas? Is it your angel stuff?"

Cas closed his eyes for a moment. "No," He said stiffly, and Dean felt bad for bringing it up. "I'm no longer capable of healing anyone right now. I think it must be this place."

Dean blinked. "You think Purgatory is healing us of our boo boos?" Dean's voice rose in incredulity. "How is that even an idea?"  
Cas lowered his head, and Dean saw the beginnings of crazy Cas showing his face. He backtracked. "Walk me through it, man?" He asked, calmer. Cas took a breath, and held on.

"Purgatory is a place for souls, monster or leviathan, anything that lives here doesn't have a physical form. We do, we came in our bodies." Cas paused, and Dean glanced around at the solidness of everything.

"So, how are we even alive? Why would Purgatory fix us, instead of killing us outright, make us into souls here?"

"I don't know that, but I know that a soul can't be destroyed, therefore nothing in this land can actually harm anything. It's all in our minds, what we've constructed."

"So, when we get ripped open by monster souls, they can't actually hurt us, so the wounds go away faster than normal." Dean finished, feeling a sick feeling rise up. "It's like in Hell."

Castiel nodded, rubbing at his arm. Dean furrowed his brow, seeing that.

"How bad was that?" He asked, nodding towards Cas' arm. "When you got it, I mean."

Cas ducked his head again. "It bit into the bone. It was painful. I was glad to have it healed."

"Son of a bitch." Dean murmured, rubbing at his chest.

Dean and Cas stood there for a moment, and Dean was amazed to see that the blood was beginning to clot on the bodies of the werewolves they'd killed. Dean was sure that if they stood there long enough, then they'd see some disturbing head reattachment, or something. The thought was nauseating.

"Let's get out of here," Dean said, grabbing Cas' arm, and pulling him away.


End file.
